Victory and Defeat
by aFineMess5
Summary: A retelling of the complicated history between Niles and CC. Please read and review; M rating only for specific chapters.
1. 1: Now

[A/N: These characters aren't mine, but their creators no longer deserve them. So I'm hijacking them and pretending like everything I write is canon. This story, incidentally, has taken on a life of its own and has become something more than I originally intended, but I'm enjoying it nonetheless. Please read and review.]

Victory and Defeat

Now

CC tapped her toes against the slightly chilly wood floor; from her position on the bed, her entire feet could not reach the ground. A shaft of moonlight sneaking in from a small gap in the curtains bisected her feet and glimmered off the polish on her toes. It afforded the room a small amount of light, enough to make out the stark wooden desktop, the slightly eerie outline of a large collection of books, and the smooth mound of silk on the floor. She fleetingly thought of wrinkles, of jeopardizing the integrity of the fragile material, when the slumbering body behind her shifted.

It was not the first time this had happened, far from it, and by the sporadic jolts of pleasure still coursing through her, she knew it would not be the last. Years of experience had unwittingly taught her that no matter how many times she tried to pretend that it might be the last time, she knew it wasn't and she was starting to wonder if it might never be the last time.

He was the source of more in her life than he knew, than she even dared to guess. There was no logic or sense to it—there was only sensation and pleasure and, lately, CC thought, maybe some emotion. She had felt something different this last time, a burgeoning warmth somewhere near her belly that was entirely different from the surge of heat he caused in a decidedly more southern region.

She knew she should leave; it was always easier (simpler?) to leave at night than to risk being seen in the morning. It was also much harder to get through the day when she was forced to rouse herself earlier than she usually did to avoid any awkward and revealing encounters with anyone else in the house.

His voice nearly caused her to jump, but she knew he hadn't been fully asleep. She recognized the different ways he breathed—the slow, even breaths that meant he was sleeping peacefully; the increasingly deep breaths that meant he was near to falling asleep; the quick, shallow breaths when they'd start kissing. So much useless knowledge she'd attained over the years, useless but guarded possessively by her heart that silently shouted its random trivia whenever another woman would come sniffing around and inevitably retreat within weeks or months.

"You leaving, Babcock?" he mumbled, his face half obscured by his pillow. CC glanced over her shoulder, conveniently avoiding eye contact, and her profile in the moonlight momentarily took his breath away. Had he been more awake, he might have pulled her back down beside him to take her once more.

"Yes," she said, turning away before he could catch the slight disappointment etched on her face. She stood just as his arm reached for her lazily but fell heavily upon the mattress that was still warm from her body heat.

Niles kept one eye open to watch her dress, to see the silk of her dress slide over her curves and settle in attractive folds. She ran a hand absently through her hair and she certainly wasn't aware that the movement of the strands caught the moonlight, bringing out the different blond highlights. Strange, he mused, how a woman with whom he was so physically intimate could still seem so unreachable in moments like this.

Next she slid into her heels, one finger hooking behind the heel strap. Niles thought she looked like an advertisement for some sort of couture or even perfume: the lavish dress, the expensive heels, her hair beautifully mussed by its owner's recent physical activity. These thoughts always struck him in moments like this and they remained so: just thoughts, never spoken, and though he used to be able to swallow them easily when they'd first began their _encounters_, lately Niles found that it was just a little harder to keep his thoughts unspoken. At least it was too dark for her to see the look in his eyes at times like this when his defenses were down, lulled by intense pleasure and exhaustion.

When she'd slid on her light wool coat and grabbed her clutch purse, she turned to him still without fully looking into his face. Here was the only moment of awkwardness they'd ever experienced during their times together and why he knew she preferred for this to happen at her penthouse: it was always easier to be the one kicking the other out, though he'd never actually kicked her out. He had no qualms about her staying the night and had even dared to say so once, years ago, at which time she'd laughed in his face and left, no doubt grateful that he'd given her such an easy exit that time.

Niles yawned, stretching, and CC's eyes traveled down his bare torso, stopping at the sheet that covered him. As his eyes reopened, CC stared down at her hand, pretending to fuss with the clasp on her clutch.

Niles decided to make it easier for her. "G'night, Babcock."

"Goodnight," CC returned, squaring her shoulders and quietly exiting his room. Niles grinned and rolled over, burying his face in the pillow that still stubbornly held onto her scent.


	2. 2: The First Time

[A/N: I'd like to dedicate this to the TWO WHOLE REVIEWS I got for chapter one. I'm watching you, those who follow this. I'm watching you closely. Enjoy and p.l.e.a.s.e review.]

The First Time

Her long, blond hair tied back in a ponytail and half of her face covered by her black-framed glasses, CC Babcock tapped her pen against the legal pad perched on her lap. Sara had assured her, even promised her, that she wouldn't remain a secretary forever and that what her husband truly needed was a business partner with a sharp mind for actual business. But it had been a year and a half since CC had graduated college and found employment with Sheffield Productions and she was becoming concerned that her double-major in economics and business and the clout that came with the name Babcock was taking her nowhere in this business when she'd already be junior partner in nearly any other.

The shrewd, quick mind that dwelled in young CC was so painfully bored by its employment that she'd often find herself imagining different scenarios in her head. If Sheffield Productions were in the midst of a play, CC would plan things differently from the way Maxwell did it and always to successful results. If Maxwell disagreed with her, CC plotted ways to implement her decisions without Max discovering. It would be another several months before CC dared to do any of the things she planned but once she did, she never went back: Maxwell never noticed anything anyhow.

Surprisingly, her mind traveled another path too, and it began running down that path in earnest when the butler entered the room with mugs of tea for Maxwell and CC. He sneered as he passed it to CC and she glared in return. She'd endured his hostility ever since she'd started working here and in her defense, she had no idea why he disliked her so much. Servants had never taken warmly to her since her mother had taught her the derisive way in which Babcocks were to interact with the help, but this one seemed to hate her and it seemed to be personal.

And for whatever reason, this aroused CC immensely.

This butler was unlike any she'd met before—near Maxwell's age, he wasn't old and he wasn't stuffy. CC knew he possessed a sarcastic mouth and a quick wit, and he was even personable and friendly with Sara and Maxwell. He reserved his antagonistic behavior for her but Sara had laughed it off, her eyes twinkling, claiming that this was just how Niles played.

Well, CC noticed as the months passed by, Niles didn't seem to play with anyone else like he played with her, and it wasn't long before CC started to yearn for him to _actually_ play with her. These thoughts were initially greeted with horror but soon, spurred on by CC's inherently rebellious nature, CC explored these strange feelings and started to wonder if Niles didn't feel something similar, too.

These thoughts currently plagued her as CC twirled the end of her ponytail around her fingers, quickly stopping when she noticed the girlish behavior. She forced herself to focus on her boss (the lingering aftertaste of that word made CC want to swirl Listerine) as he enumerated the various things he'd accomplished that day. CC refrained from asking if he wanted a cookie in celebration.

Instead, she stopped tapping her pen and began making a list of the things Maxwell had just told her, understanding that she would need to overlook and fix any mistakes he'd made. At least she'd be able to do _something _productive that day.

"Well, CC, I'm going to take Sara to dinner," Maxwell announced, clapping his hands together. He had an ingratiating habit of doing this, as though he were an influential politician whose every movement and every thought required accompaniment and flourish. "You'll be heading out soon, I suppose?"

"Soon. I have a few faxes I want to send," CC lied smoothly. Maxwell smiled appreciatively at her as he bid her goodnight, closing the office door behind him.

And so CC set to work, calling backers purportedly to check in but in reality to weasel out whatever they'd discussed with Maxwell so that CC could make tiny adjustments if necessary. When that was accomplished, she slid several contracts out of their manila homes to cross out Maxwell's suggested changes and insert her own. She'd just stacked them again neatly when the door opened and Niles stepped in. He seemed only slightly surprised to still see her there.

"Fixing Mr. Sheffield's mistakes?" Niles asked casually as he rounded up the empty tea mugs and a small plate with crumbs.

Momentarily surprised that he knew what she was doing, CC shrugged it off as easily as a loose sweater. "As though it's any of your business," CC responded in an impeccable imitation of her mother's loftiest, coldest voice.

"Oh, look at the young socialite, all dressed up in mama's feathers," Niles remarked.

And now CC was truly stumped. Was he some sort of magician? Could he read her mind? "Don't you have a toilet to scrub somewhere?" she snapped, the loft in her voice deflating into something harsher and more CC.

She thought she saw a small smile on his face but it was gone so quickly that she supposed he made it vanish, crazy magician that he apparently was. "No, right now I have to take out the trash. Out you go, Babcock."

For some reason, his familiar use of her last name and the way his voice dripped sarcasm all over it aroused her. Perhaps she did need therapy; after all, it was becoming rather vogue on the Upper East Side.

"How dare you," she simpered, the arousal ignited ridding her of her verbal sparring capabilities.

"Such a witty comeback from a secretary," Niles remarked.

Now anger mixed with her stimulation to form lava through her veins. She stepped around the desk and bent over near him to grab her bag off the floor; she smiled maliciously as she saw his body jerk away from hers. Perhaps her suspicions weren't entirely off base.

"Well, Niles," CC said, her voice softening, starting a dangerous game, "maybe I need a few lessons from an acid tongue." She yearned to watch his reaction but knew it would be more effective if she walked off right then. She grinned brightly when she heard his footsteps following her.

Niles set the empty mugs and plate on a side table, forgotten. "So the almighty CC Babcock needs help from the butler?"

CC could hear the throw in his voice, the attempt to lasso her before she neared the closet and the front door. She stopped just as she reached the edge of the living room and spun on her heel. Her ponytail flew behind her and draped around her collarbone.

"Such a presumptuous little butler," she remarked, dropping her bag on the couch. She stepped towards him and he her, so that they met right near the coffee table. "I never said the tongue I needed was yours."

"Come on, Babcock," Niles said, and CC wondered if he knew the physical reaction his use of her last name caused. She wouldn't put it past him; he would use his mind-reading capabilities for evil. "My tongue could teach you a lot."

There could be no mistaking it anymore: she'd started the game but he'd played along so willingly, too willingly, for it to only be caused by one comment from her. She allowed a small smile to crease her face and she saw Niles's eyes drop down to her mouth. A thrill of victory surged through her.

"Maybe it could. You are such a good _servant_, after all," she tossed back, her body unconsciously arcing towards his. She saw Niles' tongue gently tracing the bottom row of his teeth and knew that he wasn't doing it intentionally, but still—CC thought that tongue _could_ teach her a lesson or two.

They'd reached an impasse, of sorts: either retreat or leap. CC knew she could never make the leap, not with him, not here, not the first time, and Niles knew it too. So it was up to him, and the flush Niles could see from the v of CC's button-down told him that she would make no objections if he took it further. And yet he hesitated, just a moment, possibly understanding that something would forever be changed if he took that step forward. But another moment later, a small, pent-up sigh escaped CC's mouth—if it hadn't been silent in the house, he would never have heard it—and Niles slid an arm around her waist, dragged her against him, and kissed her fully.

His tongue did seem intent on teaching her something as it slid into her mouth and attempted to subdue her own, but CC fought back with as much enthusiasm as she had, spurred on by Niles' fingers digging into her hip. He brought the other hand up to the side of her face, gripping the end of her ponytail. He was simultaneously rough and gentle, the fingers on her hip nearly bruising her while the thumb against her cheek moved softly on her skin. He seemed determined to keep her off-kilter, not allowing her to orient her senses.

All at once, CC needed to feel his skin, needed him to feel hers, needed to figure out if the rest of him was as smooth as his thumb. She reached for the shirt tucked under his belt just as he pulled her shirt out of her pants and later that night and for years to come, CC would privately marvel at the synchronicity of their movements, their knowledge of each other from the first time.

She slid her palms against his torso and up his chest, delightfully feeling goosebumps erupt wherever she touched him. She knew he was experiencing the same thing with his hands on her skin, although much more clear thought was made impossible when Niles unhooked her bra and slid one of his hands against her breast in a fluid second. She felt it respond to his touch immediately, felt the pinching pleasure that nearly bordered on discomfort at how amazingly enjoyable it was for his hands to be on her.

Dimly she recognized that there was a fever rising in her and it was nearly reaching a frenzy. She couldn't recall if she'd ever been aroused this quickly before but also couldn't recall what her middle name was, so for the first time in her life, CC felt her brain switch off and hand the reins to sensation so that she was little more than active nerve-endings riding a wave of pleasure that, really, had been brought on only by a kiss and Niles's hands upon her.

She felt him against her thigh and slid one hand down to grip him outside of his pants, the gasp of surprise at how hard he was nearly drowned out by a throaty groan emanating from Niles. She leaned forward to kiss him again, already missing the sensation in its five-second absence. Niles slid his hands from her bum to the fastenings of her pants, pausing momentarily in the way only a gentleman still in charge of his faculties could. He was allowing her another chance to change her mind and if CC could have, she would have laughed at his belief, however small, that she might not want what was about to happen.

To assure him and to expedite the process, CC reached forward, her lips still fused to his, and unhooked the button and slid down the zipper, pushing down his pants and boxers in one motion. Niles slid down her pants, too, much more vigorous now that she'd given her consent. She felt the tip of his hard length against the softness of her belly and she wrapped her hand around him, sliding it up and down for a few strokes before Niles seized her by the waist and guided her towards the couch.

He lowered her onto the couch and reared above her, taking no more than a few seconds to memorize her face, before he kissed her lips and slid into her. She gasped again, breathing it into Niles's mouth, and braced her palms on his shoulders as he moved against her. Explosions were occurring, in her and around her and everywhere, and she floated along, bumping pleasantly against sensation after sensation as she felt his length slide in and out of her. She felt a slight building within her and wondered if she'd come like this, even though she'd never been able to before.

Niles continued to move in her and pressed his cheek against her so that his warm breath cascaded against her ear and neck. Surely he could hear the noises CC was making in her throat, that were bubbling up her mouth, but for once she didn't care, for the louder she became, the faster Niles moved. It might have been seconds or minutes or hours or days, but eventually Niles cupped her hip with his right hand, angling her slightly, and CC finally cried out loud, releasing the noises she'd been bottling the entire time. A moment after this, Niles groaned again and came so powerfully that he had to steady himself against her, pressing his weight against her more than he had yet. CC relished the warm, sturdy feel of him, even if he made it a little difficult for her to breathe like this.

Moments later, when the echoes of their passion had faded, Niles slid out of her and off of her, pulling up his pants and focusing all of his attention on the zipper and buttons. He looked bashful, CC thought, as she slid forward and mimicked his movements, and CC thought she knew why.

Grabbing her bag, CC stepped closer to him and his eyes automatically flickered up to hers. A naughty half-smile played about her lips as she said, "You owe me one," before walking to the closet, grabbing her coat, and leaving the house.


	3. 3: Now

Now

Niles awoke early the next morning; the chink of moonlight that had so illustriously illuminated CC was now a tentative pale streak of dawn. He hadn't moved since he had fallen asleep, which he knew because his head was still sunk into the pillow that had a slight teasing aroma of CC's perfume still lingering upon it. This was earlier than he usually woke up, but he felt well rested. He reached over to turn off his alarm clock, and the motion fluidly turned into a stretch.

Thoughts of CC swirled his brain, but he'd become so accustomed to it that it barely bothered him, like a ringing in one's ear that becomes barely noticeable after a while. The shock of their rendezvous could no longer be labeled shock; once his initial surprise at his spontaneous actions in the living room so many years ago had worn off, Niles had adjusted easily to the idea of their sporadic couplings.

What had surprised him, perhaps, was how quickly he became accustomed to all facets of her. He had become addicted to the sounds she made, softly and then with increasing volume; he had begun to crave the feel of her soft skin; the little smile she gave when she realized what his intentions were, or when she sometimes initiated contact, had aroused him more thoroughly than anything ever had.

Yet there were times, often in the awkward moment when they each realized that one was about to leave, that Niles wondered whether it had been wise to enter the sex-only relationship with the woman for whom his feelings were decidedly more than just sex. The simplicity of it seemed to suit CC but Niles found himself filled with something like regret whenever CC left, when he would have preferred her to stay.

In the beginning, it had suited him as well. When he'd first met her, he knew that class lines were too ingrained in her; she would never see him as more than the help. The emergence of their sexual relationship was perfect to eradicate the tension between them and seemed the simplest answer to what two people should be expected to do with their fierce attraction when the rest of the circumstances of their lives were too complicated to navigate.

But the continuation of their affair, if you could call it that, even when one of them met someone else, even when he resented her and she disgusted him, seemed to complicate as the years went on. Clearly, class lines weren't of such importance to CC that it stopped her from sleeping with someone several rungs below her on society's ladder. If she had feelings for him, as Niles sometimes suspected she did…

The butler sighed. It was this, precisely this, that caused him to experience twinges of regret about how this all had started. Maybe it had been a mistake, after all, and maybe their sexual relationship was too big of an obstacle if ever they wanted to begin a real relationship. How could two people even attempt to bridge that sort of gap? But if it had been a mistake, it was one that Niles participated in willingly throughout the years, and it bothered him to think that his insatiable desire for her was something that would ultimately prevent him from being with her properly.

If it was a mistake, it was a mistake he made over and over again—so then what sort of person did that make him?

He had almost immediately decided, after their first sexual experience, that it would not happen again. It was unwise, truly: a butler sleeping with his boss's secretary. It was improper and something that Niles knew butlers and maids did all the time, but that didn't make it right, of course. Yes, that first time was the only time, until CC had approached him right after, looking so fetching in her post-coital glow, and indirectly set up at least one more time: "You owe me one."

Niles hadn't needed to ask what she'd meant. She hadn't climaxed and he didn't like that; it made everything feel unfinished. Perhaps after all it wouldn't be the last time…if things were unfinished, Niles didn't like to leave it like that…

That had been a Friday, and when he had awoken on Saturday morning, Niles knew his initial declaration of _one time only_ was never going to last if CC was on board. As he'd grown out of his adolescence, his sexual appetite had slightly decreased in intensity; if he slept with a woman, he was usually sated for at least a few days. But the next morning, he had awoken with an aching hardness and a powerful desire to be with CC again.

And, of course, he _owed her one_…

Monday morning arrived with a slight awkwardness in the air—neither had really known how the other would act. Niles considered it a good sign that CC behaved normally after a strange exchange where he'd opened the door for her and she'd handed him his jacket. Niles had looked at her and dipped his eyes momentarily over her body; CC had raised her eyebrows and walked off with her nose in the air. Niles thought he knew her well enough to tell if she'd actually regretted what they'd done.

Mondays usually meant lunch out for Maxwell and Sara; they'd established rituals for themselves as a couple in order to ensure time together after Max had started his company. A thrill rang through him as Max had waved cheerfully at his butler as he and his wife left for a leisurely lunch downtown. Niles waited twenty seconds and then headed to the office. As he approached the open door, he saw CC pacing back and forth, staring at an open manila folder in her hand.

When the office door closed, CC jumped and spun to look at Niles. "What are you doing?" she asked, a little accusatorily, a little excitedly.

"Taking care of my debts," Niles responded innocently. He walked to her and lifted her easily onto the desk, perching her on the edge of it. CC looked as though she was about to object but it died in her throat when she felt Niles's fingers softly traveling up her legs. He leaned forward and CC's chin automatically jutted upwards, anticipating his kiss, but he merely grazed the side of her lips and instead trailed his lips softly down her neck.

Meanwhile, his hands had pulled down her thin pantyhose and he shifted slightly as he removed her shoes and bared her legs completely. CC still looked uncertain about what he had planned but her face soon relaxed and she let out the blissful sigh that he already loved as he gently slid his hands all over her, fully appreciating her shape.

Then, without warning, Niles kneeled down in front of her, tugging her towards him, and settled her knees on his shoulders. CC's eyes widened and brightened and Niles couldn't help grinning as he kissed first her left thigh, then her right. Whatever she had been possibly objecting to before, CC now arched towards him, settled back on her elbows. Painfully slowly, he edged her skirt upwards and kissed closer and closer to his ultimate destination. He felt the muscles in CC's thighs clenching and nudging his head closer.

He kept up his slow tempo, occasionally darting his tongue out tantalizingly close to where he knew CC wanted it, but all at once, Niles eschewed this pattern and ran his tongue along her wetness with more pressure than he'd been using. CC gasped and started panting and quivering all over.

Niles kept his hands on her hips, holding her gently and yet firmly in place, as he continued his sweet assault. He stroked and swirled his tongue, altering his pressure and speed, and faster than he'd ever made a woman come, CC suddenly gasped loudly and sat up abruptly, her legs shaking, and then she arched her back and landed on the desk once more, writhing against Niles's insistent tongue.

When her orgasm had subsided, Niles gently lowered her legs and stood, his palms against the desk and his body leaning against her legs.

"Now we're even," he said in a mischievous tone. CC stood up, a little unsteady on her legs, and looked at him with stars in her eyes and clouds in her cheeks.

Wordlessly, she pushed on his chest until the backs of his knees connected with the leather couch and he was forced to sit down. Reaching down, CC undid his pants and revealed his hard length. She straddled him and slid down upon him, gasping again and watching as his eyes unwittingly closed. His hands returned to her hips and she moved on him in a frenzy, clutching at the hair on the back of his head, the sensation heightened thanks to his ministrations from moments before. CC felt him clench and then a loud groan fought for escape from his throat and his fingers released their strong grip on her hips.

Breathing hard, CC rested her forehead momentarily against his. She could smell herself on him and her stomach swooped. "I doubt we'll ever be even, butler," CC said softly, her voice a little raspy. Then she climbed off of him, lowered her skirt, and grabbed her pantyhose, heading to the bathroom to clean herself up.

From the comfort of his bed, Niles grinned at the memory and then groaned when he felt his body respond.


	4. 4: Then

Then

CC was a woman for whom repression came naturally. Perhaps it had become something of an evolutionary requirement for those of noble birth, as she never needed to be taught it by her parents. She remembered, fleetingly, feeling a powerful surge of grief and anxiety as her mother had walked out of the front door after a prolonged visit when she was four; by the time she had turned to face her father, the feeling had been squashed down and CC had requested a snack.

But this, _this_, was something she didn't know how to push down. It seemed so much bigger than her, looming over her head, ready to drop itself upon her and crush the life force out of her. This was more than repression, more than denial; four times today, she had stood and started to walk out of the office, ready to tell Sara something—only to remember she couldn't.

CC knew that death was not something that could truly be qualified or evaluated: a loss was a loss, and each loss was irretrievable and irrevocable. But surely, _surely_, there was something worse about a sudden death? If there had been a warning, an illness, a hint, _anything_, she might have found herself able to wrap her head around it.

But there was nothing but the huge, searing truth, rumbling towards them like a bowling ball, striking them and toppling everyone over.

She knew her grief couldn't possibly match that of Maxwell's or the children's. She had no idea how to talk to any of them; she could barely look them in the eye. The sight of tiny Grace walking unsteadily around the house, peering hopefully around corners, expecting to see her mother pop out and cry "_Peekaboo!"_ was heartbreaking.

But still, she had lost a best friend. Likely her only true friend. She'd known her through society throughout high school and then improbably met her again in college—Bryn Mawr was not the likeliest choice among their set when the Ivies beckoned so fetchingly. But the two had hit it off immediately in a way CC never had with another; Sara's soft, warm nature buffered CC's harshness, and yet she'd helped bolster Sara's confidence and encouraged her to become more outspoken.

Then, the summer before senior year, Sara had taken summer courses in Oxford and met Maxwell. CC had momentarily worried that Sara would uproot her life and take off for Britain after graduation, but then she'd learned of Maxwell's intentions to start a Broadway production company.

These memories, so seldom dwelled upon, kept smacking CC in the face. She'd relived her friendship with Sara a thousand times in the past four days, remembering how it had transformed throughout the years as she'd watched Sara grow from a single girl to a married woman and finally to a mother. Their friendship had still thrived and they were just as close as they'd always been—though CC was forced to acknowledge the lack of development in her own life when compared with Sara's.

The funeral had been unbearable. Maxwell was a mess, unable to speak to anyone or acknowledge his children. Sara's family clung to each other as though they were on a life raft. The hundreds of people who had turned up to celebrate Sara's life and mourn her death mirrored the shock that had coursed throughout CC lately. And then there was Niles.

CC had felt a surprising urge to melt into him and gather some of the comfort he was trying to lavish upon the children. He had spared none for her and though she did not begrudge him this, though she knew that the children's needs were a thousand times more than her own, she still felt herself waiting for him to approach her.

It was then that CC unconsciously acknowledged that she had thought whatever she had with Niles was more than just sex. Not quite a romantic relationship, but more than the physical acts they performed together. But CC wondered, if his attention had never even landed fleetingly upon her during this time, what the nature of it was, exactly…

Whenever her mind managed to move away from Sara, and she thought about Niles and felt a little angry with him for ignoring her, CC felt absolutely disgusted with herself. Her best friend had died and she was waiting for a man to notice her? What was wrong with her?

In her confusion of grief, it never occurred to CC to be easier on herself, to be more forgiving towards Niles, to acknowledge that everything she felt might just be normal and not a sign that she was a terrible person. All she felt was an unspeakable chasm inside her where Sara had previously been and utter bile for herself and her stupid, stupid feelings.

After the funeral, she had been shunted into one of the cars headed for the Sheffield mansion. Sara's mother sat beside her and held her hand; she kept muttering things to CC like "always such a good friend" and "spoke about you so often" and only succeeded in making CC feel more horrible. For beyond her trysts with Niles and her terrible inner world, CC had an awful secret that she didn't want anyone to know.

She hadn't cried. At first, she had attributed this to shock; as the shock had molded into a throbbing pain in her gut, the tears hadn't come. When they had lowered the casket into the ground, she hadn't cried even while everyone sobbed around her.

Her best friend was dead, and CC hadn't shed a tear.

Disgust and revile mingled with guilt as CC felt the emotions swirl through her stomach like vomit. She felt horrible, awful, unworthy. She even found herself questioning why Sara had gone—why a woman whose life was so full, with a husband and three children and a loving extended family—and why she, CC, was alive. The universe couldn't be this impartial, things had to matter, things had to be taken into account: CC had no one, had nothing in her life but a job. Surely she should have gone instead.

So CC stood in the corner while the Sheffields mingled with Sara's parents and a smattering of friends who had come to grieve. Niles moved around the room somberly, refilling drinks and replenishing the food. CC wanted to shout at him, to demand answers to all of her questions about why Sara was gone and she remained behind, to scream at him to hold her and wake her up from this awful nightmare, to demand that she leave this private outpouring of grief to which she did not belong since she had not displayed any…

The children left for their rooms first but CC knew, in the way that they all held hands as they ascended the staircase, that they would sleep in the same bed that night. Niles showed the rest of the people into the number of guest rooms available and finally returned to the living room to escort and nearly carry Max up the stairs to deposit him in his room.

She stood alone in the living room and knew she should leave, yet she could not force her feet to move. The idea of her empty penthouse seemed as painful as standing in this dark corner of the living room but at least here she would not be alone.

It was so long until Niles returned that CC had assumed that he had gone to bed. She was wondering if she'd be able to tell which guest rooms were empty or whether she ought to just sleep on the couch when his steps echoed through the empty space. He walked over to her, his suit rumpled and his shoulders slumping, and he looked at her with such sadness in his eyes that CC burst into tears.

For the first time since she was six and had broken her wrist after Noel had pushed her off the slide, CC cried in front of another person. She cried deep, heavy sobs, pausing only to take raspy, ineffective breaths, the grief finally crashing over her and preventing anything other than deep pain from smashing around her. He took her into his arms and she dug her fingers into his shoulders; nonsense words escaped from her mouth and muffled in his suit coat. When she felt his own warm tears splashing on her neck, she threw herself into more paroxysms of grief, crying for Sara and Niles and Maxwell and the poor children and for herself.

When her sobs had quieted slightly, CC saw the blurred outlines of Niles's room and wondered when he had led her here. Niles still held her tightly until he reached down and brought her face up to his; their grieving had left their faces raw and wet, their eyes burning and red, and the helplessness that CC now realized they'd both felt in the past several days emanated from them in waves.

Niles pulled her towards him and kissed her lips softly; there was nothing but comfort in this kiss and CC returned it to him. They broke apart seconds later and rested their tear-stained cheeks against each other, their arms still wrapped around each other. Eventually, still wordlessly, they broke apart and Niles opened his drawer, drawing out a clean white t-shirt that she could sleep in. She changed into it while he pulled on his pajamas; moments later, they climbed under the sheets and fell asleep, still in a loose embrace.


	5. 5: Now

Now

CC entered the mansion yawning; it had been later than she'd realized when she'd finally left the previous evening. She hadn't even mustered the energy to compose herself properly, her hair clipped back haphazardly and her face hastily made up. Glancing around for the butler, CC continued to the office with a shrug.

"Well, Niles," she could hear Maxwell saying as she approached the open door, "this must be exciting for you!"

"Butler's Association finally acknowledging your lack of hard work after all these years?" CC tossed out, thrilled to give the first blow.

Niles rolled his eyes and picked up the tea tray; he appeared eager to exit the office. "Go on and sit down, Miss Babcock. The couch won't indent itself."

CC smirked at him as she set down her briefcase and forgot to ask Maxwell what was so exciting, for her business partner had picked up the phone and was on a call.

The rest of the morning operated relatively smoothly; Nanny Fine only interrupted and distracted Maxwell four times, which CC thought had to be some sort of record low. Were she a more intuitively aware person, she might have thought to ask what the hubbub with the servants was—at one point, Maxwell's driver entered the house and pulled Fran aside—but the goings-on of the lower classes, save one notable exception, never warranted much of a blip on CC's radar.

As it was, CC traversed the living room on her way to the front door, about to head out for the theater, when the doorbell rang. This time, even CC couldn't help but notice that a small crowd had gathered in the foyer.

"What's going on?" CC asked, her attention half on the nanny and half on the hand rummaging through her bag.

"Niles has a visitor!" Fran replied in that annoyingly singsongy way of hers, but there was something in her tone that caused CC to look up at the door. Her stomach seemed to be preparing itself for a flip.

By the time Niles had opened the front door, her stomach had decided to jump off the highest ledge possible, landing somewhere near her feet. In the doorway, her slight figure diminished even more so by the frame, stood Kathryn.

…

Years ago, several months before Fran had arrived, the Sheffields' former maid Kathryn had returned to Manhattan. CC knew very little about her aside from fleeting mentions that she and Niles had once been an item—and considering the strange relationship CC had since formed with Niles, especially after their shared night following Sara's funeral, CC brushed any thoughts aside. A maid, she could handle.

Yet when Kathryn had returned, when Niles had disengaged from many interactions with CC, when CC had seen her willowy figure and fiery red hair, something made her falter. There was a look in Niles's eyes that made CC at once full of rage and anxiety. Then Kathryn began to interact with everyone and CC's fear mounted.

She'd lost several boyfriends to smaller, softer, quieter women. She knew how some men preferred their women, and in CC's mind _some_ became _most_ and with Niles it seemed to be _all_. Who wants a sharp-tongued fireball when they could have a fluffy bunny? Who would prefer a towering behemoth over a simpering pixie?

Attempts to regain her confidence became fruitless; Niles was either so distracted or happy to have Kathryn back that he forgot his former playmate. True to form, CC's doubts and fears transformed into anger and any interactions she did have with the butler remained hostile.

Sometimes, CC sensed that Maxwell wanted to admonish CC for her rude treatment of his former maid but never did; she assumed he either credited the loss of her friend to still be plaguing her or CC's usual contempt of the help for her behavior. She felt grateful for Maxwell's lack of intrusion—she wouldn't have been able to put her thoughts into words if she'd tried.

The only true interaction she had with Niles came several days after Kathryn's arrival. CC stepped into the kitchen for a snack and when she saw Niles in the far corner of the kitchen, it occurred to her that they were alone: the older children were at school, the littlest one was at daycare, and Maxwell was at the theater.

"Where's your girlfriend?" CC asked, faux-casually, and immediately regretted it. It would have been infinitely better if she'd never mentioned Kathryn—or even ignored Niles completely.

Niles smirked at her. "Jealous, Babcock?"

"Well, you're certainly a big talker now that no one else is around," CC snapped. If her ears weren't ringing with the familiarity of rage, CC might have stopped herself. Hurt was fueling this anger, and this was always the most dangerous kind.

"Meaning?" Niles asked. The irritation in his voice threw gasoline onto the embers inside her.

"Meaning you've elected to ignore me for the past week since you've had your tiny tartlet to keep you company," CC retorted. She internally slapped herself—she was giving this argument away and likely revealing too much.

"Aw, poor little Babcock, feeling neglected," Niles said. "Does someone need a walk? Or perhaps you'd prefer a visit to the dog park?"

"Sure—can I borrow the leash that ginger's kept you on?" CC threw back.

"Just because Kathryn is more delicate than _you_, Bigfoot, doesn't mean you need to call her names," Niles replied. He grimaced slightly but CC missed it, pretending to laugh as she opened the refrigerator and pretended to glance over its contents.

"Well, if you prefer them small and shapeless, Niles, to each his own," CC said.

"Better than a sack of potatoes," Niles replied, and CC nearly jumped when she felt his breath on her neck; she hadn't realized he'd moved so closely to her.

"Don't talk about yourself like that," CC said.

"We don't have anything large enough to quell your appetite," Niles told her, his arm brushing against her side as he reached around her to shut the fridge door.

CC spun around, looking Niles squarely in the eye, and nearly dragged him into the butler's pantry when she heard, echoing through the empty house, the front door slamming shut.

"Niles, love, where are you?" Kathryn's voice rang out.

CC felt the fire in her, recently glowing red hot, go out as quickly as if someone had doused her in bone-chilling water. "No," CC agreed, pointedly looking down at him, "nothing large enough in here."

With that, she left the kitchen and hid herself in the office.

Somehow, two weeks had passed since that incident and Kathryn still inexplicably remained in New York. CC had purposely avoided further interactions with Niles; her feelings confused her and she felt dirty when she considered that Niles and Kathryn might have rekindled their romance. Either way, Niles's treatment towards her left a great deal to be desired and she felt not a little disgust towards him at the moment as well.

Preparations for Sheffield Productions' backer's party took up most of her time anyhow, and any discussions that she might have needed to have with Niles she merely outsourced to other people. Hiring a caterer for the event served the dual purpose of slapping Niles in the face and preventing her from needing to talk to him. There were times when she suspected that he was looking at her when she walked through the house but she remained steadfast in her avoidance—she might have been a morally questionable individual, but CC Babcock was no one's mistress.

Days of rain preceded the party, which CC soon learned that Kathryn planned to attend. Unable to think of any plausible argument against this, CC handled it like a true Babcock: she ignored it and internalized her frustration. She attempted to look on the bright side—she worked herself up so much that her appetite frequently left her, so she promised to look smashing in her new gown for the party.

The rain thankfully ceased hours before the party, leaving the sidewalks damp and the air muggy. CC stepped out of her car, holding the hem of her gown well above the ground. Whatever happened, this dress would make her happy. Accentuating her curves and fanning out in a gorgeous sweep, the white silk dress with a sheer overlay glittered in the waning sunshine. CC smiled happily and walked carefully into the mansion, sidestepping a large puddle of mud and sludge formed from the endless downpour from the skies.

When CC entered the foyer, she tossed her wrap to Niles and said, "There's a big puddle right near the steps outside. Shouldn't you do something about that?"

"Did you make a mess on the ground again?" Niles replied. CC wondered if he was a little stung by the harshness in her voice.

"Even if I did, it's _your_ job to clean it up, servant," CC said with the perfect balance of acidity and apathy, sidestepping Niles to oversee the setup for the party.

She might have regretted her initial insults and her initiation of the battle but for Niles's behavior once Kathryn arrived. He took her coat and positively fawned over her dress, but he declared all-out war when he remarked on how thin she appeared. Niles glared at CC as he hung up Kathryn's coat; CC merely raised her glass in a faux-salute from across the room. It was on, then.

CC proceeded to make the embarrassing mistake of letting her guard down momentarily; high off the buzz of a check stored in her purse, CC gave a tinkling laugh at something a backer had just said. It wasn't remotely funny, of course. She placed a flirtatious hand on his arm and said, "Oh, Christopher, how do you think of such things?"

"I was just going to ask the same question. Weren't you saying earlier, Miss Babcock, that a feather held more intellectual weight than Mr. Walter's brain?" Niles asked with a glowing smile, proffering a plate of crudité.

CC's face suddenly became snakelike and she glared at Niles so vehemently that he took a minor step back. Luckily, Christopher let out a bellowing laugh and wrapped his arm around CC.

"Oh, CC, you're a spitfire!" he exclaimed. CC smiled sweetly at Christopher, made all the sweeter by Niles's disappointment.

CC had lucked out, but she had no way to assure this. She stood alone moments later, attempting to think of a proper rebuttal. It was clearly necessary for her to go on the offensive. Then, a heavenly light shone down upon a section of the area rug that had become uneven because of the increased foot traffic. She spied Niles walking in its direction, one hand laden with a newly replenished tray, and had mere seconds to achieve her feat. Using the toe of her shoe, she edged the carpet up further and stepped blithely away, meshing herself seamlessly into the conversation with Maxwell and one of their regular backers.

Knowing it would give her away to watch, CC had to settle on listening intently. Seconds later, a thud, a crash, and a shriek rent the air in rapid succession. CC spun around with the rest of her group and quelled the bubble of laughter that formed at the sight of Niles sprawled over the floor, half-covered in appetizer remnants.

"Niles! Compose yourself!" Maxwell said, once the general din of talking had resumed.

"Mr. Sheffield, _she_ did that!" Niles said desperately, standing up and pointing a greasy finger at CC. She assumed her most innocent expression as Maxwell glanced at her fleetingly.

"Don't be ridiculous, Niles, she was standing with me the entire time," Maxwell replied. "Clean this up and then take care of yourself. What a mess."

"Such a mess," CC agreed, shaking her head at Niles. She gave him a slight wink as she turned back to face the group of men, unable to resist taking credit for her prank.

The party continued on with very little incident; CC supposed that Niles felt chagrined. Hindsight would prove her wrong, of course, as it so very often did, but CC relished the momentary victory.

As some of the guests began to leave, CC offered to escort their newly-signed backer to her car. Normally she didn't make such an effort with women—they seldom liked her very much, in truth—but this old broad had raved about CC's dress for so long that CC's insight (only keen in matters of business) told her to pursue this woman.

"Oh, CC, really, you don't have to," the old lady said again; still, she happily accepted CC's proffered arm.

"Nonsense, Ms. Baker!" CC replied. "It's my pleasure." CC walked her to her car and indulged the old woman, who asked for one more twirl. CC spun on the spot, appreciating the streetlight twinkling upon the light fabric.

"Such a gorgeous gown," Ms. Baker sighed, holding a hand over her heart. Niles, who had stepped outside to hold the door open for a group of exiting men, rolled his eyes; CC smirked at him as the woman climbed into her car.

"Thank you so much, Ms. Baker. We'll be in touch soon," CC said in her honeyed voice. She waved at the men as they climbed into a cab and walked towards the steps leading up to the front door.

"Talk about a wolf in sheep's clothing," Niles muttered as CC paused at the bottom of the steps.

"Such cleverness from the help," CC said. "Did the innocent Kathryn teach you that one?"

"Speaking of innocence," Niles said, walking down the few steps to stand next to her, "isn't it a little blasphemous for you to wear white? We should fix that." Niles bumped her with his hip and CC, unsteady from having one foot on the bottom step, stumbled and fell with a splash into the puddle she'd told Niles about earlier.

She yelped and tried to push herself up, leading streaks of mud halfway up to her elbows. "Niles!" CC exclaimed. She finally succeeded in standing up and almost screamed again; her dress was unquestionably ruined. "Niles!" she screeched again.

"Yes?" Niles asked, cupping his hand over his ear.

CC momentarily considered pushing Niles into the puddle but the front door opened again—she couldn't have any backers see her like this. With a warning growl, she hurried off to the alley next to the house, heading to the back door and up the back staircase. Seething with anger, CC stepped out of her shoes—ruined as well—and into Niles's bathroom. She'd unconsciously taken this path; it was more familiar to her than any other in his house.

Scrubbing furiously at her hands, CC tried and failed to think of adequate revenge. How could she explain her sudden absence from the party? Undoubtedly the butler was already inside, telling tales to the remaining guests. Grinding her teeth, CC turned off the faucet and dried her hands. Walking into the guest bedroom across from Niles's room, CC shut the door and slid out of her dress. Luckily, the slip underneath had sustained no damage but she couldn't very well go downstairs in _this_.

With a sigh, CC looked at herself in the mirror above the dresser and saw a splatter of mud on her shoulder. As she worked to rub it off, the door to the room opened and CC jumped, looking around hurriedly for something with which to cover herself. She stopped when she saw it was Niles.

"If you come any closer, I will _murder_ you," CC told him in a low, terrifying tone. To his credit, Niles looked sheepish.

"Miss Babcock, I am sorry," Niles said.

"Oh, you're sorry? I didn't even think you knew that word," CC snapped.

"I know I went too far," Niles continued.

"But now I have justification for your murder," CC reasoned, stepping towards him. Niles took an automatic step backwards, causing the door behind him to shut.

"I just wanted to see if you were all right," Niles said, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Oh, I'm just peachy. A gown worth more than you've ever made in your entire life is ruined, and you can't even afford to pay for the dry cleaning!" CC yelled.

"You humiliated me too, you know," Niles told her, the contrition in his eyes slowly replaced by righteous anger.

"Yes, well, everyone expects the moronic butler to screw up," CC replied, turning away from Niles and walking back to the mirror. Even in her anger, she knew Niles's eyes were travelling up and down her barely covered body and she felt a small sense of satisfaction at the thought.

"Don't worry about the other backers. They'll probably assume you're screwing one of the others in his car outside," Niles said.

"Excuse me?" CC spun around quickly.

"They all think you do it. I heard them," Niles said. CC's eyes searched his face but she couldn't tell if he was lying.

"You're disgusting," CC seethed.

"Says the creature from the black lagoon," Niles retorted.

"Shouldn't you be off admiring your girlfriend?" CC said. She knew it was a lame retort, but Niles's jibe about the backer's talk had unnerved her and she wanted to end the conversation quickly.

"At least no one spreads unseemly rumors about _her_," Niles replied pointedly.

CC's hands clenched into fists. "Who _would_? She's got the figure of an eight-year-old boy."

"Better than an eighty-year-old woman," Niles reasoned, motioning towards her body.

CC grabbed a hairbrush—the only thing she could find—off the dresser and whipped it at him. He dodged just in time; the handle of the brush snapped cleanly off and fell to the floor.

"Are you _insane_?" Niles exclaimed as he rushed forward. He grasped her arm as she reached for the bottle of perfume near the dresser's edge. He stopped her just in time and pulled her arm away.

"You are the _worst_ sort of jackass!" CC cried, angry tears glistening in the corners of her eyes.

"You started this entire thing!"

"Oh, right, I invited your stupid girlfriend back in town," CC spluttered, making another frenetic attempt for the perfume. Niles stopped her again, grabbing both wrists this time.

"Calm _down_, you frightful woman!" Niles told her.

"You're a worthless, _horrible_ man—"

"Crazy _baboon_—"

"Awful, mean, _immature_—"

"Bloody idiot—"

They both paused at the same time, staring at each other, and seemed to acknowledge, at the same time, what was about to happen. They leaned in to each other simultaneously, their lips meeting for the first time in weeks. Niles pulled her wrists behind her, pinning her against him; she felt him harden in mere seconds.

Niles turned his hips and pushed her back against the dresser. She sat on the edge and wrapped her legs around him, drawing him closer as they kissed each other roughly. As Niles trailed kisses down her neck, CC opened her eyes and realized that this was the room in which Kathryn had stored some of her things: it was Kathryn's hairbrush that she'd broken and her perfume that CC had attempted to hurl across the room. The idea gave her a sick sense of pleasure and the thought of lingering backers and party guests just downstairs heightened the sense of just how naughty they were.

She gasped as Niles used his chin to push aside the thin layer of silk covering her breast; he took her soft skin into his mouth and even gently nipped at her. She arched against him, her arms resisting his hold, and finally he released them; she twined her fingers in his hair and held his head in place, only relenting when he turned his attention to her other breast.

Niles ran his hands up and down the outline of her body, stroking her waist, gripping her hips, and of course, _of course_, how could she have ever forgotten, he loved her body, he whispered admiring words about it as he surveyed its landscape with his hands and mouth and eyes, he adored her shape and worshipped her curves…

But it had been long, entirely too long, and CC craved to feel him again. Niles, as he was wont to do, appeared content to take his time and tease her, his favorite hobby, but CC felt like a huge clock hung over her, counting down the time until he perhaps realized how unwise this was, and she needed him now, a powerful need that cut through any other inhibitions to which she might have clung. She drew him upright again and brought his lips to hers, meeting his tongue and tracing his lips, until she pulled his ear against her lips and whispered, "Now."

Niles chuckled deeply, such a seductive sound that CC felt it ripple over her. "Be patient, Babcock…"

Ignoring him, CC unfastened his pants with a deft hand and held his length in her hand. She stroked it a few times, gently guiding it toward its ultimate destination, and moved her mouth to his ear once more. "Fuck me," she whispered.

Niles gave a groan of resignation, and CC knew she'd won him over. He moved her hips slightly and slid into her in one stroke, groaning again when he felt her. "God, Babcock…"

Niles thrust in and out of her quickly, roughly, and CC threw her head back in ecstatic agony. In her haze, though, she could still hear the dresser thumping against the wall and even in the thrill that coursed through her at the thought of someone walking in on them, she didn't want that someone to be her (and Niles's) boss.

As was his custom, Niles read her mind and picked her up, still inside her, and CC moaned when she felt him slide even deeper into her. He pressed her against the wall and continued, displaying an attractive amount of strength and dexterity. CC returned to her world of blissful oblivion, experiencing nothing but Niles—the feel, the sound, the scent, the weight of him. He surrounded her and never before had CC felt so agreeable to drowning, to living forever in the circle of her and him. _This_ was it, there were no complications, no others, no doubts—here there was certainty and assurance and sensation and _God_, the sensation…

Niles came shortly thereafter, his hands still supporting her legs and his head nestled in her collarbone.

He brought CC back to the ground slowly, giving her a moment to regain her footing. Still in her fog, CC wanted to pretend that her legs were weak, wanted to keep his warm hands on her waist, but the fog cleared slowly and CC returned to the land of the living. She pushed her slip back into place, suddenly wishing it covered more of her and that she had other clothes to put on.

"I'll find you something to wear," Niles said, acutely aware of her as always.

"Right…right," CC said, her voice strengthening. "I expect she'll be waiting for you."

"Who?"

A flash of annoyance crossed her face. "Your girlfriend, moron." What had before been the allure of the forbidden existed solely as shame within her—what had she done? Was Niles truly such a cad?

Niles sighed and stepped closer to her, placing his hands again on her waist. "She's not my girlfriend, _moron_." He kissed her forehead and exited the room.

…

They had never fully established exactly what Kathryn was, then—though CC reasoned that she and Niles had never established what they were, either. Kathryn had left Manhattan shortly after the party and CC contented herself with forgetting about the redhead's existence.

This, of course, proved to be a foolish strategy, as several years later, Kathryn once more stood in the doorway to the Sheffield mansion. Still as thin, still as _delicate_, still as hateful as ever. Her disgust showed itself, apparently, for Fran stared at her strangely and CC quickly adopted a more neutral expression.

"Who's she?" CC muttered, turning and walking back into the office, even though she'd been fully prepared to leave moments before.

To her dismay, Fran entered the office a few seconds later.

CC pointed to the empty office chair. "Maxwell isn't here, Nanny Fine. Go preen for someone else."

"You mean you don't know Kathryn?" Fran asked, selectively ignoring CC's dismissal.

"What?"

"You asked who she was. Kathryn. You've known Niles a lot longer than me and even _I_ know all about their great love affair," Fran said, eyeing CC carefully as though surveying the depth of the water she approached jumping into.

"Great love affair, please," CC scoffed, picking up a random manila folder and pretending to look through it. She threw it back down on the desk when she discovered it was empty.

"Why do you say that?" Fran asked innocently, hopping onto the arm of the leather loveseat.

"Can't you ever sit in a chair the way you're supposed to?" CC asked irritably. Still, she spun around to lean against the desk. The amount and variety of things that had occurred in this office in the past might have caused a lesser woman to blush, but CC plowed on.

"She shows up every couple of years and Niles pouts when she leaves. I wasn't under the impression that it was much to write to England about," CC explained.

Fran pursed her lips and tapped her chin with one heavily manicured finger. "Hmm. Niles seemed pretty excited about her arrival."

CC looked away from Fran's surveying stare. "Good for him. Gives him something else to scrub."

"Well, everyone needs a little lovin' every once in a while," Fran reasoned. "Speaking of, when's the last time you got any?"

_Last night with your best friend_, CC thought with a sort of savage pleasure. "I guess it would be Chandler."

"Oh, right, right…how could I forget," Fran said, and CC didn't think for a moment that the nanny had forgotten. Had she and Niles been louder than anticipated last night?

"Right. So several weeks ago, then," CC replied. "This has been the opposite of fun. Do you need anything else?"

"What about Niles?" Fran asked suddenly.

"Probably not since the Stone Age," CC replied smoothly.

Fran laughed, but there was no nasal in it: the nanny searched for more. "No, I meant, have you ever thought about Niles like that?"

"Sure, why not," CC said casually. "Have you?"

"When I first started here," Fran admitted. "You know, I used to think he had a crush on me."

"He never did," CC replied quickly, too quickly, and she mentally shook herself. What was it about that infuriating man that made her lose her cool? If word ever got out that she'd entered into a battle of wits and determination with the nanny and _lost_…

Fran stared at her carefully, and there was victory in her eyes. "He didn't?"

"You were always friends, right? And apparently he's been hung up on Kathryn for the last half-century of his life," CC explained.

"I guess you're right," Fran replied with a shrug.

"If you'll excuse me, then, I should get to the theater," CC said, grabbing her things again and heading out of the door. As she entered the living room, she stopped almost immediately: Kathryn stood on the step leading into the foyer, Niles right below her, and she bent her head to kiss him. Fran walked into the living room in time to see CC walking quietly but quickly towards the dining room and back door.


End file.
